Weekend Winks – Freezing! Fiesta! Football! Fun!

One of the joys of living in a city that isn’t equipped to handle any type of winter weather, is it’s kinda fun when it comes. Freezing rain on Friday meant that I was able to slide out of work and into my bed for a day of conference calls and cat naps (the cats, not me of course).

When you’re given the option to work from home…


No one was excited about it at all.

My mom checked in from Iowa to make sure I was all set with necessities because it’s a fucking freak out frenzy when there is even mention of the “s” word – SNOW. Nashville citizens (and anyone else who didn’t grow up above the Mason Dixon Line) all but lose their goddamned minds.

While I was hunkered down with my pussies Saturday, my Iowa twins were getting hyped up to par-tay. Why you ask? Because they are turning five – FIVE – FUCKING FIVE YEARS OLD – on Wednesday. I mean holy fucking shit how did this happen so fast?


Due to the fact that Princess B eats salsa like its soup, the day was a fiesta complete with the best cakes on the planet.

Crazy over cake.

My artsy sis even crafted a pinata for the occasion.


Fiesta fun!

Naturally, there were outfit choices to be made and Princess B did not disappoint.

Just a little gussy up.

Nor did she get any salsa on the sequins.

I finally mustered up the energy to walk over to Rasta’s pad on Saturday night, forcing myself out into the blustery cold I’m not used to anymore. Speaking of force, Rasta isn’t a football fan of any sort and I made her watch the Titans game in her own house.

I’m so sweet.

While I drank her wine.

Tailgate City.

My Titans were playing actual football titans, the New England Patriots and so I was hoping for at least a touchdown. And we scored one first! Then, just as quickly as that happened, my dudes ended up getting an ass beating. Rasta kept up with the team spirit though, assisting me through the horrendous game.

She’s officially my wine coach now.

Yeah, it was that bad.

She wins the sportsmanship award for sure.

Football fun.

I was up at what felt like the ass crack of dawn on Sunday to watch a segment on CBS Sunday Morning. It was regarding the Time’s Up movement and Oprah interviewed several prominent women who helped initiate the campaign. Being that I take great interest in this due to Rapegate and the #MeToo movement, I expected support from my pussies.

Only one showed the fuck up.


The others were busy having a menage à trois in the unmade bed.

Thanks for the support, assholes.

While watching other NFL playoff games, I started to take down the few Christmas decorations I put up this year and toyed with the idea of Valentine’s Day. But promptly stopped after dressing my Glamingo.

I also somehow came across a hideous Pucci hat that a lady who thought she was famous and was my boss at the time gave me as a leftover present (she would regift her unwanted Christmas presents to me for my birthday in March). You want it? It’s yours.

Her exact positioning and expression in every photo.

After throwing one helluva classy fiesta, my sister pulled through in our white trash ways when storing leftovers.

After getting her text, I was craving Mexican and justlikethat First Mate sent a text wanting to meet up for wine at our fave joint. Talk about fate.

We come for the handsome pours of wine, not the margaritas.

The Minnesota Vikings game (which was one of the best last second endings ever) was on at the restaurant. The fans chant skol and my sister and I were confused as to what it meant. We had an Iowa-Tennessee-Georgia family tutorial via text from my cousin Tballs – a huge Vikings fan.

My guess of “yeehaw” was way off.

After heading home with a belly full of wine, salsa and chips, I settled in for a night cap.

A literal night cap.

Here’s hoping your week is full of fiesta-ish fun.







Weekend Winks – The Buck Stops Here

You know those weekends that you think are going to be low key? Mine started out on Friday with a heavy pour of pinot noir and snuggle down with the fur balls.

Wine down Friday.

Saturday rolled around and I could hardly get out of the bed, even though it was an Iowa Hawkeye game day.

Caturday canoodling.

I mean, with lay outs like the one below, I decided to crawl back into the throne and frolic with the fur balls.

A king almost falling off a queen sized bed.

The Hawks were going to play a number three ranked Ohio State University (whom I loathe, have always loathed and will continue to loathe forever and ever amen. Maybe it’s because you’re supposed to say THE Ohio State University…maybe it’s because they seem to piss every major bowl game down their leg, maybe it’s their cockiness….you choose). Dada CBXB and I almost didn’t get together because my he was having his cable worked on and we weren’t sure it’d be done by the game. I also think we both figured that being the 20 point underdogs, it may be the most boring game of the Hawkeye season.

Cheerleading from bed.

A game against THE Ohio State University several years ago is the reason we started taking touch down shots (to keep the games more interesting for us Hawk fans when we scored maybe one touchdown per game).

Then this gem of a text rolled in from my sister. Who, may I note, lives about 25 fucking minutes from the University of Iowa and Kinnick Stadium where kick off takes place. EVERY. SINGLE. Saturday she asks:

A) Who the Hawks play

B) What time the game starts

I, in turn, always love asking her who the Tennessee Titans play. Her guess this time goes back to when our dad played for the Baltimore Colts (who are now located in Indianapolis for you non sports fans). She’s a huge football fan, obvies.

I got all game day gussied up and headed out to watch what was possibly going to be the worst ass beating in the history of our team. It’s not that I don’t have faith in my Hawkeyes – I do – however, it’s sometimes heartbreaking being a fan because when we’re bad we’re very, very bad and when we’re good we rock.

On my way!

The game started and as I was saying, “Jeez it’s really lou-…” the Hawks got a pick six and scored for a touch down eight seconds into the game.

“At least we lead once this game,” said Dada CBXB.

Then, something miraculous happened and Iowa scored again.

Surprisingly a second shot as Dada said, “Well, at least we lead some of the game.”

Shot three game and we were silly with excitement.

NO ONE thought we’d have four touchdowns on THE Ohio State University during the first half (let alone the entire game).

Colin Cowherd, a sports media personality with his own pod cast hates the Hawkeyes with a passion. Even when Iowa had a perfect 12-0 season two years ago, he found holes to poke. Well, he taunted with a Tweet during halftime….

….SUCK IT Colin, ’cause the Hawkeyes kept on steam rolling. Cowherd really does owe everyone at the Deadwood bar in Iowa City a PBR.

We were ultra prepared for an OSU comeback in the second half but instead, the Hawkeyes kept on trucking and gave our livers a run for their money.

Shot fucking 5?!


Our reputation precedes us, as even our loyal Facebook touchdown shot counters noticed we had posted nothing during the entire game, as we typically document each shot taken.

HEY-OH we posted the last shot taken of the game!

THE BUCK STOPS HERE at shot seven.

With a final score of 55-24, all of the Iowa fans rushed the field…

…as did yours truly, only virtually.

I mean, how could I miss out on a moment like this – that will most likely never happen again?

Victory shot for good measure, along with how the rest of the night felt.

Even the Internet took notice over the ass beating we handed THE Ohio State University.

Being that I thought I would be sober Sally upon the completion of the game, I didn’t pack a bag to stay at dad’s….but I who am I kidding? I wouldn’t have changed out of my Hawkeye gear anyhow. I may or may not still be in my game day clothes and I may or may not change out of them until we lose again.

Not ashamed of this walk of shame.

Here’s hoping you’re having a week as high as I’m feeling. My head is still in the clouds because the buck stopped here.



Weekend Winks – Ass Hats, Ass Slaps and Lazy Asses

Is the weekend ever here fast enough?

Not for this duo who couldn’t wait long enough for me to take a piss before expressing their delight in having their mother smother them for two whole days.

We spent Friday lounging around the mini while I guzzled wine like Kristen Wiig in an SNL skit.

My dream come true.

Sunny Saturdays in Nashville call for pool parties. Since I don’t do beer and sipping on Skinny Pirates all day can make for an early evening, I’ve discovered spiked seltzer water. It’s the shit – 4.5% alcohol, 90 calories per can and 0 sugars.

Truly. Madly. Deeply in love.

After an all day sunfest, our pool crew decided to hit up my fave watering hole, Dalts for the aforementioned Skinny Pirates and home cooked food.

Feed me.

Thirst quenching fun with Cat Boy, Pool Mom and Rasta.

You see, we chose Dalts for our after hours pool party because last weekend, we ran into a bit of trouble at another local bar. After several rounds of cocktails and bar snacks, I got up to sing one of my fave AC/DC songs with the band. Complete with a greasy bun, prescription sunglasses on at night (’cause I’m douchy like that – oh, and also sunglasses hide sins, requiring no makeup after a pool day) and a maxi dress.

After my non-Grammy winning performance, on the way back to our table, some guy at the bar smacked my ass so hard my bun fell out. Some guy who I hadn’t spoken to all night. Some guy who I hadn’t ever laid eyes on before. A stranger. Trying to get some semblance of dignity back after the unwanted, unmerited slap of a stranger, I made my way back to our table. Just in time to find Cat Boy in the dude’s face, defending my honor…and thankfully so. Who knows what I may have done once I garnered my wits?

Girls just having some fun.

We were immediately asked to leave the bar and I inquired whether or not both parties were being asked to leave. I was told yes and I must say that I understood why – alcohol combined with angry tempers don’t mix but not one person – not the ass hat who slapped me, not the bouncer, not the employee who asked me to leave a very busy bar acknowledged what had happened. And as we stood outside waiting on our Lyft, we witnessed the stranger who smacked me being served another round of drinks with his buddies.

Isn’t that nice?

Daily reminders compliments of Metal Marvels.

This kind of shit isn’t OK. It bothered me all week and so after a few days, I called the owner of the bar who went back, looked at the tape and called back to apologize. He also said that as an owner of this establishment of 13 years, he’d never had any issues brought to his attention like this and wondered out loud how many other times something of this nature happened. Which is so fucking true.

If you see something, say something.

Violence isn’t the answer but fuck. There is never an appropriate time to spank a grown woman – a stranger to you – like she just hit a home run in the 9th inning of the World Series. Hands off.

Luckily for me, these two were just happy to be scarfing down on celery and pizza and I got picture proof of it.

Are your diners this cute?

Princess B got a new leotard and hates it. Obvies.

Hot shit and she knows it.

You know who else is hot shit? Former Iowa Hawkeye, Karl Klug, who has played for the Tennessee Titans since 2011. As Dada CBXB says “Klug is what hard work and not great talent is all about.” Does he sound like a former football player and coach? It’s been beyond fun having a defensive end on our professional team to cheer on every Sunday (after our college football Saturday fun). Klug signed autographs after practice last weekend and my friend’s boys were lucky enough to get a little pep talk, as well as an autograph.

Football season can’t get here fast enough!

You know what else can’t get here fast enough? Tourists leaving Nashville. Us locals can’t even go downtown anymore without fighting asses to elbows…I mean, I’m sure Robert’s Western World is wondering where in the hell the folks who come and sit in he front row for 10 hours have been. Although the Music City has grown so much in the past five years, we may have to get there at 10am just to see our fave band come on at 10pm.

Winding down the weekend, there was a packed couch.

The gray duo on one side of the couch.

Balanced by the human sized Rocky on the other.

Somehow, some way we made it to our usual wind down spots, naturally.

All’s well that ends well.

Here’s hoping you have an ass slappin’ fabulous week – for all of the right reasons.





Weekend Winks – Football Fail

The failure of my fave football teams showing up and kicking ass this weekend didn’t deter me from having an overall fabulous time with the fam in our usual Saturday shenanigans.

Jell-O shot jiggler

Jell-O shot jigglers.

Game day began with Ted and I sharing breakfast – he goes straight for the cheese while I stick to my egg.

Pussy approved breakfast.

Pussy approved breakfast.

While my fur ball was busy scarfing down my food, the twins were taste testing apples at an Iowa orchard.

Apple orchard cuties

Apple orchard cuties.

Snow White

Our family’s version of Snow White….

As the Iowa Hawkeyes kickoff drew near, New Cat assumed his position as greeter, anxiously awaiting our arrivals.

Game day greeter

Game day greeter.

The bar was stocked with my dad’s rot gut vodka (Taaka vodka could seriously start your throat on fire if you chose to smoke a cigarette while consuming), my beloved Captain and Popcorn Sutton White Whiskey was on standby for our traditional touchdown shots.

Cocktails - full bar

Stocked bar, warm bellies.

Naturally we can’t have cocktails galore without tasty tailgating treats.

Tailgating tasties

Let the game day grazing begin!

My mini manse morphed into a brief media room when we were unable to get our Hawkeye game on TV due to the previous game running long. Typically this would simply be an inconvenience but since it was our in state rivalry game – the Iowa Hawkeyes vs. the Iowa State Cyclones, we were antsy to get the football show on the bigger screen.

TV fail

Double vision.

My pussies were less than impressed to be kicked off the couch and resorted to the front window, where they plotted how to keep their mother sleepless on a Saturday night.

Waaay into the game.

Your football game is stupid and you will pay.

Ignoring the holes being scorched into my head from the kit cats, moonshine was passed around for two Hawkeye touchdowns.

Touchdown...two in three minutes. #sos

Cockier with every swig of this cocktail.

Busy with moonshine, Skinny Pirates and the football game, I turned my back for one second and found New Cat perusing among the food.

Up to no....

New New is fully of naughty.

And when I whipped back around from scolding the pesky pussy, my Hawkeyes had lost the game by a last second Cyclone field goal.


No bragging rights this year.

Not only did I promise to be done with my team (fair weathered fan right here) this year in my post game misery, Ted wallowed in this disappointing loss by demanding a belly rub.

So upset, he needed a belly rub.

Rub me now, Bitch.

Drowning the rest of my Saturday sorrows in Skinny Pirates, I was able to get my ass to Target (my mothership) Sunday morning for the debut of the Altuzarra for Target line.  And rolling out of bed for this proved worthwhile as Altuzarra produced beyond cute merch that I was able to manhandle, making my football heavy heart skip a beat.

Sunday religion  Altuzarra for Target

My version of church.

Back to the mini manse in time for the Tennessee Titans game, New Cat could barely watch as the Dallas Cowboys kicked some Nashville tail.

Dismal display by the Titans

Is this football bullshit over yet?

Discouraged by the outlook of football season for my teams, I blew off the losing steam with a run in the crispy fall sun.

Lipstick and lunged my way through the park. Let off steam...

Lipstick and lunged my way through the park.

And then I parked it for Sunday night date night with my fave feline.

Wine and pussy time.

Wine and pussy time.

Cheers to a fabulous week my friends!



Weekend Winks – Party Style

All kinds of Nashville party shenanigans were had this past weekend for Teddy and me.


Me and my wild pussy.

We had a wild Friday evening sorting through my bins of winter threads.


Mr. Bear just had to supervise.


And he was worn out within 45 seconds of perusing my piles of clothes.

Speaking of wardrobe, my little niece and nephew love going naked as they proved with a pic on Saturday am.


Wish I looked this cute naked.

Saturday game day party ingredients were prepped for our Iowa Hawkeyes 11am (ugh…too early!) kick-off. I worked my ass off setting liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. Exhausting.


For the record, that’s not my vodka. It’s my dad’s rot gut that he insists drinking because it’s a whopping $9 per handle.


All of the tasty tailgating treats to help us wash down our cocktails.

As soon as the first play was underway, Ted assumed his fave football position on his Gma’s lap.


Football is so tiring.

Of course, his beauty sleep was interrupted by our moonshine shot tradition that we guzzle after every touchdown.


Cheers #1.

Our halftime show featured a celebration of my dad’s birthday complete with a whopper pie (made by yours truly) and gifts.

pie time

If this wasn’t frozen, I have a feeling this pie would have ended up on someone’s face.


The birthday boy who doesn’t hate attention.



The sign I gifted my dad reads:

“Dad, no matter where I go in life, who I get married to, how much time I spend with guys, how much I love my boyfriend, you’ll always be my number one man.” And the last line should have included – don’t tell Mr. Bear.

Of course, Teddy had something to say about this revelation and gave my dad a stern talking to on the porch.


A tumbleweed went by in the background just before I snapped this photo.

After all was settled, TB sauntered into his Juicy Couture Pussy Palace to ignore all of the birthday and football celebrations taking place.


So over us.

We carried on to our 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th moonshine shots…



Which of course led to Dance Party USA – then turned into a victory celebration as our Hawks won the game.


Raise the roof no rhythm style.


And get so exhausted you have to sit down to continue.

I drug Ted out of his Pussy Palace to see if he felt like a whirl and twirl.

kit cat dance

Care to dance, Mr. Bear?


That’s a big no.

After almost losing an eye to a claw, my dad and I ran to the liquor store in order to prep for the Tennessee Titans game on Sunday (you like how we have our priorities straight, don’t you?).

prep for game

Pouched and ready to go.

Sunday greeted us with a gorgeous day for football – sunny, cloudless and 60 degrees.


Hello perfect football weather.

As the players were suiting up in their uniforms, I was putting the final touches in my Sunday attire.

bootleg vodka. boobleg tequila

Such a cute accessory.


The birthday weekend continues…

After our photo shoot, I headed to tend bar in the bathroom.


Alcohol kills germs, right?

And as the Titans continued to suck it up the entire afternoon, my dad and I turned into comedians while we were people watching. Our most clever observation was spying the oldest jersey in our section, being that Pac Man Jones hasn’t been with the Titans since 2006.

where's masking tape when you need it?

Where’s duct tape when you need it?

The Titans may have lost to the worst team in our division BUT my dad and I gained hats. Oh so many free hats we collected as other fans ran out of the stadium with their heads hung in shame.

we may have lost but we gained hats. oh so many hats

Who doesn’t need countless camouflaged hats?

And we refused to leave until the end of the game – which was perfect as the Titans scored another touch down and we were able to finish the last little bit of tequila we had with us.

which became more important when we shot tequila

Saturday touch downs involve moonshine. Sunday touch downs are best with tequila.

The highlight of game day was the halftime event, which honored local veterans and active duty members of the military.  Lee Greenwood sang “God Bless the USA,” the crowd witnessed a re-enlistment ceremony for 50 members of the Army stationed at Fort Campbell and the color guards from the five branches of the military were on the field.


Happy Veterans Day

Want to do something fabulous in honor of Veterans Day?  Why don’t you drop a holiday card in the mail to the American Red Cross, who distributes the received mail among veterans, active-duty service members and military families all over the world.  To read more about Holiday Mail for Heroes, click here.  Send your holiday card(s) by December 6th to:

Holiday Mail for Heroes: PO Box 5456 Capitol Heights, MD 20791-5456

Thanks to all of the veterans and active-duty service members for all you have done and continue to do.



Bewitching Breakfast Burritos

Finding myself with a last-minute invitation to a Tennessee Titans tailgate turned into a horror show more quickly than anticipated, as I was under prepared in my own personal grocery department. And you can’t show up to a party empty-handed now, can you?

While rummaging through the fridge, freezer and pantry (which typically house condiments, vodka and expired cereal) I came up with a solution to my meager problem when I spied non-molded corn tortillas.

Which resulted in a first time attempt at breakfast burritos…

Tailgating tasties at their finest.

Early game day tailgating tasties at their finest.

Here’s what I found (and what you’ll need) to concoct a similar potion…

  • Whatever kind of meat you find in your freezer (I ran into a half package of sausage)
  • Green pepper (if you have one…I have no idea how the F one found its way into my fridge)
  • Five non-expired eggs (plus a bit of milk if you have it or you can use water)
  • Shredded cheese (leftover from last year’s chili. I’m kidding…kind of)
  • Tortillas
Fry the sausage separately.

Start by frying your choice of meat.


In a separate skillet, saute the green peppers.

Add the egg mixture

Mix the eggs with about 1/4 cup of milk and add to the peppers.

Add the sausage to the mix.

Add the sausage to the mix.

 And then the cheese.

Once the eggs are almost set, top with shredded cheese.

Pick your poison. Personally, I'd reach for the skull....

Scoop the mix onto tortillas. Roll. Then devour.

Of course, I also had the ingredients for Jell-O shots which made me one popular tailgater. I mean, what washes a bewitching breakfast burrito down the hatch better than vodka and gelatin? Nothing.

What washes a bfast burrito down?

BOOzin’ it up spooky style.

You know I like to keep it classy.




Weekend Winks – Cab Crashin’ Style

Cocktails, kitty time, football and a cab accident were the ingredients of my interesting Nashville weekend…

The little love of my life, Mr. Bear was impatiently waiting for his Friday evening cattails (and doing his best to blend in with the Halloween decor) upon my arrival home from work.

Ready for cattails

Desperate for a drink. He takes after his mother.

While enjoying our spirits, I shared news that will probably change Ted’s life for the better…there is now wine for cats (thank you dear readers for sharing the news – I don’t know how I wasn’t already in the loop, being bona fide cray over my cat). Although I’m going to have to fly to Japan to get my paws on one of the 1,000 bottles they’re making (but I think trekking across the world with my cat on the prowl for feline wine would make for some fun blog posts).


Never drink alone again?! Score for the all of the cat ladies out there.

While Tedstar reveled in his wine news and I continued to drink human vino, I got all kinds of confidence and started hanging up pictures that have been sitting on the floor since I moved in July. And I have to say, surprisingly none are crooked.


Yes, I will come do this for you but it will cost you one box of wine.

I was greeted with smiles from Iowa on Saturday morning, which made getting out of bed more tolerable.

Your adorableness for Monday. You're welcome.

Your adorableness for Monday compliments of my niece and nephew. You’re welcome.

Is there a better way to kick off college game day than with a tasty bloody mary?

Saturdays taste so good.

Saturdays taste so good.

While I was prepping for the Iowa Hawkeye game, Ted participated (as it requires copious amounts of energy to sit) in the sport of bird watching.

Bird watching

The birds vacated the feeder upon Teddy’s presence. Smart birds.

With the tailgating (or rather homegating) goodies ready to go, my folks and I prepared to watch our Hawks get beat (which is a recurring theme this year).

Snack attack

Snack attack.

Pumpkin head

Even the pumpkins have spirit, yo.

And of course we kept up the shot after every score tradition, taking the sting out of the loss.

Shot time (grape vodka for mama)

Classy family.

Teddy was so exhausted after his bird watching, he couldn’t keep his eyes open for one single second of the three-hour game.

Worn out

Grandmas give the best belly rubs.

Late Saturday evening libations ended rather harshly as the cab we were riding home in got hit by a drunk driver.


Oh the fun times….


Ambulance not needed but arrived in what felt like seconds.

While everyone was thankfully OK after the impact, when it occurred I was leaning up from the backseat, talking to the driver (I seriously never shut up) and therefore slammed into the dash with my forearm. I think I feel a lovely bruise coming on.

It only hurts when I move it.

It only hurts when I move it.

In recovery mode on Sunday, I was wishing I had a ticket to the Titans game. I must have turned into a witch at some point recently because a few minutes later, I got an invitation and free ticket.

Yes, please.

Yes, please.

of course a little cocktailing by my own hand.

Once again, I became my own crafty bar tender in the bathroom (I just get classier, I know).

While it was a terrible football game (for Titans fans anyway), it was a beautiful fall day and fun times were had regardless.

Beautiful day for football

Every team I like loses…maybe I’m not a witch with powers after all.

Upon my return home I found Ted in the same position he was in when I left earlier in the day.

Case of the Mondays...

Weekends are exhausting.

And he was in the same position yet again when I left for work this morning. Apparently all of the feline wine excitement really wore him out.

Here’s hoping your day isn’t as tough as Ted’s weekend.